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BIRDS °a f FEATHER 
STORIES 


THE CHEERFUL BOOK OF BRAVE BIRDS 



cAufhor of little bird Students. Pictorial Bird 
' Stories. Little Bird Stpries 


< 71 * tyMStinnUn. 


PUBLISHERS 


yJU ST RIGHT BOOKS? 

Albert Whitman & Company 

CHI CAGO, V.S.A, 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


Copyright, 1925, by Albert Whitman & Co. 
Chicago, U. S. A. 




t 


A JUST RIGHT BOOK 
PUBLISHED IN THE U. S. A. 


DEC19’25 


©ci a 556 2 








FOREWORD 


In this book of bird stories the reader will enjoy 
the charm of fanciful story telling and also realize 
practical bird facts and knowledge. 

The Birdless Isle story has a high quality that 
will make the tale live long in the reader’s mind. It 
is a story that extraordinarily and truly visualizes the 
dangers of wantonly destroying our bird life. There 
is such a great fund of bird character information in 
each story of these bird tales that will lead many 
readers to a greater love and appreciation towards our 
friends, the birds. 

Every story in the book is based on facts from 
authoritative sources and personal observation by 
Murlie Burns Wike. 


—The Publishers 



CONTENTS 

Page 


A Birdless Isle . 9 

The Oriole's Gift . 19 

On Silent Wings . 38 

The Blue Jay's Cupboard . 50 

The Ribbon Thief . 61 

A Sparrow in the Cabbage Patch . 7*2 

An Unwelcome Guest . 84 

A Robin at School . 91 

A Robin at School . 91 

A Noisy Fisher . 104 

The Passing Over of the Birds . Ill 














LIST OF FULL PAGE ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

All the Foolish Men and Boys Oiled Their Guns. 8 

Their Bird Enemies Were Gone. 15 

Then One Day a Pair of Birds Found Their Way to 

the Island . 17 

When She Saw the Nest She Knew.. 25 

I Know Spring Is Coming Now. 33 

Betty, Watching From the Other Side. 41 

Got An Old Soft Rag. 43 

The Tree on Which He Perched. 51 

And Write a Good Composition. 53 

Jay Birds Came to Feast on the Warm Corn. 57 

Flew Away With It. 63 

That Pretty Bird an Oriole. 65 

Helping Herself to the Nice Juicy Worms. 73 

Led the Way to the Little Wren’s Nest. 81 

Young Tommy Catbird. 85 

Trying to Make the Baby Robin Eat the Worm. 93 

Spring Is Here. 113 

They Would Fly to a Warmer Clime. 115 

The Birds Had Been Quietly Gathering In Little Groups 117 
Sentinels Perched Upon the Tops of the Trees. 121 






















All the foolish men and hogs oiled their guns 

























Birds of a Feather Stories 


A BIRDLESS ISLE 



“There was once a very pretty island away 
out in the ocean.” 

“Is this a fairy story, mother?” young Bobby 
asked. 

“No, my son, it is the story of what will hap¬ 
pen to us if we do as the people on the island 
did,” his mother answered. 

“And on this island,” she continued, “lived 


9 












10 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


some real old wise men with their children, grand¬ 
children and great grand-children and they were 
very happy. There was but one thing that ever 
disturbed their happiness, the wise old men would 
not let their people kill the birds that came to 

A 

dwell on theVisland with them. The boys would 
like to shoot the birds and rob their nests. The 
older boys and men wanted to kill the birds to 
eat. They often saw them in their fields and 
they supposed they were eating up the grain 
when they were in reality devouring the worms 
there. The women.also wished to see the birds 
killed for they would make such beautiful trim¬ 
ming for their hats. The real old men were wise, 
however, and would not let them kill the birds. 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


11 


“Fruits of all kinds grew in abundance on 
the island, the grass was very pretty and green 
and wild flowers bloomed prettily in every nook 
and cranny. The whole island looked like a 
bright gem set in the midst of the ocean. Birds 
made this gem-like island musical and happy 
with their sweet carols. It was a little paradise 
and all should have been happy but they were 
not. 

“The old men were now becoming very old 
and feeble and one by one were passing away, 
but each before he left warned the others and 
their people to care for the birds. At last there 
came a time when there was but one realKdd 
wise man left. His hair was white as seafoam 




12 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


and his long beard hung down on his chest. 
Sadly he wandered about the island saying good¬ 
bye to everything. He loved the little gem-island 
that had so long been his home and he knew that 
as soon as he was gone the silly people would 
begin killing all the pretty birds that made the 
island so lovely, and he was sad. He pleaded 
with the people with tears in his eyes to protect 
the birds when he was gone and told them all 
what would befall them if thejVdid not do so, but 
they heeded him not. Scarcely had his bones 
been laid to rest until all the foolish men and 
boys oiled their guns and began the destruction 
of the birds. 

“The ladies’ bonnets blossomed with the feath- 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


13 


ers of many songsters. The bodies of many more 
of them served as food, but many, many were 
left to die on the ground where they had fallen. 
The poor birds were destroyed everywhere until 
the island was left without songsters or birds of 
any kind. 

“The land that had so recently echoed with 
the songs of many happy birds became as silent as 
the tomb. The only sound to be heard was the 
sad surge of the sea beating against the shore. 
Worms increased everywhere and ate up every¬ 
thing in sight until the once productive trees 
were literally devoured by insects. The cut¬ 
worms ate the heart out of the vegetables and 
caterpillars multiplied undisturbed for their bird 




14 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


enemies were gone. Snakes and lizards and all 
kinds of creeping and crawling things increased 
and spoiled the island until the once beautiful 
place became a desert in the midst of the ocean. 

“Then the people learned what a bad thing 
they\/had done and wished they had the birds 
back again. Oh! if they had only heeded the 
wise men when they had pleaded with them to 
save the beautiful birds. 

“The ants invaded the houses and carried off 
what they could find. Spiders crept in at the 
windows and spun webs over the heads of the 
people while they slept. Snakes crawled every¬ 
where and slimy lizards left their foul tracks all 
over the house. 




V 








16 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


“The snakes and lizards helped to keep down 
the insect horde but they became almost as great 
a pest as the worms. The people worked hard 
trying to kill the plague of living things that 
was slowly but surely eating the heart out of 
everything and threatened to devour even them 
in their ravenous hunger, but all their efforts 
to rid themselves of the mean things were of 
little avail. 

“Then one happy day a pair of birds found 
their way to the island. How the people re¬ 
joiced and how they encouraged them to stay! 
They set aside that day as a national day of 
thanksgiving and have observed it ever since. 
The birds found the island to be such a good 


/ 





Then one day a pain of birds found their way to the island 


17 






18 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


place to stay they told the other birds about 
it and soon there were many birds there, but it 
took many birds and many years to repair the 
damage the people did when they had killed off 
the birds. Now the island has regained its gem¬ 
like beauty and is musical with the voice of many 
birds, but woe is made to the one who harms a 
bird on that island.” 

Bobby was silent a long time after his mother 
had finished her story. 

“Mother, is that really what will happen to 
us if we go on killing all of our birds 4 ?” 

“Yes, Bobby, only I think it will be a 
lot worse with us than it was on the island, for 
there will be no birds to take the place of the 
ones we have lost.” 

<\T>? 




THE ORIOLE S GIFT 



“Mother, mother, please come here quick.” 

“What is it, my dear?” 

“Oh mother, the prettiest bird I ever saw.” 

“Where?” her mother questioned, as she 
reached her child’s side. 

“Up there. See him?” Helen said, pointing to 
the plum tree now in full blossom. 

“See, back of the first long white spray this 
way?” pointing eagerly to the fragrant, feathery 
blossoms. 


19 


20 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


“Oh yes/ 5 her mother said, “that is an oriole, 
a Baltimore oriole. 55 

“How pretty, 55 Helen exclaimed, watching the 
glittering orange breast and the black wings of 
the bird, “I never knew there was such a pretty 
bird in the world. 55 

Helen had lived among birds all her life but 
had paid no attention to them. This had been 
a sorry cause to her uncle, who loved the birds 
and was never tired watching them. To interest 
her, he had given her a book on the birds for 
Christmas. 

Helen glanced through the book admiring the 
pictures as she went but not reading the book. 
As spring advanced, however, she unconsciously 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


21 


looked for the birds to come back and when 
they did come one by one and she could find 
their pictures in the book she became enthusiastic 
about them. She saved all the crumbs from the 
table to feed the birds and she spent every spare 
moment out under the trees looking for them. 
A flash of yellow, a dart of red, or a streak of 
blue would fill her with joy. She was forever 
listening for the songs of new birds and every 
new song would send her out hunting for the 
bird. The sly Brown Thrasher seemed to know 
this for he sang so many different songs of so 
many birds he had her out hunting for them all 
the time. When after a long search she found 
him, he would be perched on the topmost branch 




22 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 



In a tree singing 


of a tree singing as if he delighted in the chase 
he had led her. 

“Oh you saucy fellow,” she would call, “it is 
no wonder you are called the American Mocking 
Bird.” 

Helen did not see the oriole for several days 
after he came and she wondered where he had 
gone. 

“Wait a little while and you will see him.” 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


23 


her mother told her. “He is waiting for his mate 
to come back from the south. She cannot fly 
as fast as he and does not reach here so soon.” 

Helen waited and before the week was out 
she saw him sitting on the quince tree singing as 
if he were the harbinger of joy, while his mate 
pulled at a string fastened on the shrub. “You 
lazy thing,” Helen scolded. “Why do you not 
help her?” If the oriole heard, he did not heed, 
for he continued his song and she tugged at the 
string. When she had unfastened the string they 
both flew away. 

After this the bird came often by herself and 
all through the long sunny days gathered string 
for the nest. Helen knew her call and eagerly 




24 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


watched for her and kept the tree limbs well 
supplied with string for her use. Sometimes she 
fastened the strings a little tight. Then it was 
fun to watch the oriole tug and pull and pick at 
it. If it were especially hard to unfasten, she 
would catch it in her bill and fly out as fast and 
strong as she could, sometimes flying away with 
the string in her bill. Sometimes she would have 
to do it all over again. When she had taken all 
the string she needed she gathered bits of moss, 
cotton, etc., to make a warm bed for the baby 
birds. 

Then Helen went to see the nest. She had 
wondered what the bird wanted with so much 
string, but when she saw the nest she knew. It 






When she saw the 
nest she knew 


25 






















26 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


was a long stocking-like nest about six inches 
long and free to rock in the wind. Helen thought 
every minute it would fall but it never did. The 
mother oriole had her nest too stong to be so easily 
blown down. She had woven the strings in and 
out and had fastened the nest securely to the 
limb. 

Helen watched the queer nest all summer but 
because it was up so high and because she was 
afraid of scaring the mother away she never saw 
either the eggs or the young birds but she knew 
they were there for she often saw the parents 
with worms in their bills flying to the nest. 

In the autumn when the old birds had gone 
south for another winter, she climbed the tree. 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 27 



She packed the nest neatly in a box 


took down the nest, packed in neatly in a box, 
kept it until Christmas then sent it to her uncle 
with a card bearing these words: “The Orioles’ 
Gift.” 

“Bless her heart,” her uncle exclaimed, when 
he received the gift, “I knew she would learn to 
love the birds.” 






MESSENGERS OF SPRING 




“Cheep-per-per!” sounded on the still air of 
a spring-like morning in early February. 

Bessie and Betty bounded out of bed to see 
the first robin of the year. It was very early and 
when they stood at the window they could see 
nothing in the light of semi-dawn, so they dressed 
and ran downstairs to find their early visitor. 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


29 


“Mother, we heard the robin’s call!” the twins 
called as they reached the kitchen. 

“Are you sure?” Mother asked, smiling at the 
eagerness of her little twin girls. 

“Yes!” they replied, and ran out to find him. 

The sun was just rising and had not yet 
thawed the ground. The chill of winter was in 
the air, but the wind talked to itself of flowers 
and bees and of the wonderful spring that was 
on its way. 

Bessie shivered a bit with the cold. “I do not 
see why robins come here so early when they 
might be enjoying all the pretty flowers in the 
South,” she complained. 

“Perhaps the south wind whispered to them 




30 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


that it will soon be spring up here,” Betty re¬ 
plied. While her sister shivered in the chill ot 
winter, she had caught the message of spring in 
the air. 

“I wondered if the wind did not tell him about 
the twins in the North who were wishing very 
much for spring to come?” Bessie retorted, laugh¬ 
ingly. She did not believe the wind ever whis¬ 
pered. as she had not heard it do so. 

“Cheep-per-per!” the robin sang, then warbled 
a few notes of his spring song under his breath. 

“There they are!” the twins exclaimed. True 
enough, there were two of them hopping along on 
the frozen ground. 

“I think those robins are crazy,” Bessie af¬ 
firmed. 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


31 


“I do not,” Betty declared. “I am glad they 
came; let us feed them.” 

Both girls ran into the house for bread crumbs, 
which they scattered on the ground. The robins 
flew away in fright, but when the twins had 
gone into the house, they flew down, captured a 
crumb, flew to a nearby fence post and ate it. 
In a little while they forgot their fear and boldly 
flew down and ate the crumbs on the ground. 

The next day it snowed and the robins did 
not appear. 

“Where did the robins go?” Bessie queried. 

“I do not know,” replied Betty; perhaps to the 
South again.” 

“I do not think so,” Mother observed. 




32_BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 

“Why not?” both girls asked at once. 

“Because some of the Southerners kill them to 
eat,” Mother replied. 

“I think that is why they came north so soon,” 
Bessie remarked. “Betty said the wind whis¬ 
pered to them; but I know better, it does not 
whisper, it just blows.” 

In about a week the bluebirds returned and 
the twins’ cup of joy was full and running over. 
They saw them first on the grape arbor, flying 
from post to post, and warbling their spring song, 
which Betty said sounded like “liquid” music. 

“I know spring is coming, now!” Betty re¬ 
joiced, dancing in the way a little girl does when 
she is very happy. 





I knoiv spring is coming note! 

33 

































34 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


Winter had not yet gone on its way, how¬ 
ever. In a day or two after this, it snowed and 
blew a regular gale. 

“What will the robins and bluebirds do now'?” 
Bessie wondered, looking eagerly out of the win¬ 
dow where the wind was hurling the snowflakes 
about at a great rate. 

“Do you really want to know?” it was their 
father speaking. He had just come in out of 
the snow and looked like Santa Claus. 

“Yes we do!” they called. 

“Bundle up well, come with me, and I will 
show you,” he said. 

It did not take the girls long to do as they 
were bidden. They walked and walked for a 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


35 


long time, it seemed to the girls, but it was not 
really very far. It seemed far because the biting 
wind whirled about them and slapped them in 
the face with snowflakes so they could hardly see 
where they were going. 

“Now, you know!” their father said, as he 
stopped and pointed to something huddled in a 
corner by the fence they were facing. 

The girls looked but could see nothing at first, 
because the wind was driving the snow in their 
faces; but they blinked their eyes rapidly and 
by looking sharply they saw that the dark objects 
were robins and bluebirds. 

The twins were so surprised they could not 
speak. They could only stare. 




36 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


Their father looked at them and chuckled. 
“Trust the birds to find the warm spots in a 
storm,” he said. 

“Birds are wiser than we think,” Betty re¬ 
marked. 

“Yes, indeed!” Father responded. “We could 
spend our whole lives studying them and still 
not know very much about them.” 

By this time they had started on their home¬ 
ward journey. As they walked, Father pointed 
out the south sides of hills and the protected 
spots where the birds gather for protection in 
severe weather. 

“Do you know where the robins and bluebirds 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


37 


find things to eat when the ground is frozen?” 
Bessie inquired. 

“Yes,” Father replied, “they stay in the woods 
where the ground does not freeze very hard and 
pick among the leaves and at the roots of trees 
and along the streams until spring comes to stay, 
when they go to the orchards to build their 
nests.” 

“Oh, I hope it will not be long coming!” the 
twins said, dancing and playing all the way home. 

Father said nothing, but his eyes rested lovingly 
on his little daughters who, he knew, had the 
springtime in their hearts already. 




ON SILENT WINGS 



“Oh look, Bessie!” Betty whispered to her 
sister. 

“Why it is a cuckoo!” Bessie said, “but what 
is he doing to that old robin nest?” 

“That is what I should like to know,” Betty 
murmured. 

Together the twins watched the cuckoo tear¬ 
ing at the abandoned nest with his bill. When 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


39 


he had loosened up a billful of the straws, he 
flew to the sugar pear tree with them and gave 
them to another cuckoo. Then he flew to a 
quince tree near by and began breaking off a 
piece of the dead limb. 

“He can not be feeding his young ?” Bessie 
queried. 

“Hardly, on an old robin nest,” Betty laughed. 

“Why, what will he do with that?” Bessie 
asked in surprise. 

The bird was flying toward the pear tree with 
a stick about six inches long and as thick as a 
slate pencil. He gave this to the cuckoo in the 
tree and flew away looking for more. 

“Oh, I know now,” Betty cried, “they are 


building a nest.” 




40 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


“But what queer nesting material!” Bessie 
objected. 

As the girls watched him, they saw he was 
indeed building a nest. He gathered the ma¬ 
terial and brought it to his mate in the sugar 
pear tree and she wove it into a nest. They 
were very quiet about it, neither of them uttering 
a sound as they worked. If the twins had not 
their eyes trained for birds they would never have 
seen them at all. When he flew, he made no 
sound and kept well to the body of the tree. 

“I wonder why they are so quiet?” Bessie 
asked. 

“Perhaps they are afraid of enemies,” Betty 
suggested. 










42 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


“They look big enough to fight out in the open 
with any bird/’ Bessie argued. 

“Yes, that is so,” Betty said thoughtfully, “but 
perhaps it is their nature to fly on silent wings 
like that.” 

“I wonder if he would like some string to build 
his nest?” Bessie asked. 

“You might try it,” Betty agreed, “the mate 
looks like she needs something with which to 
bind the sticks together.” 

Bessie ran to the house and got an old soft 
rag. She tore strings off this and hung them on 
a quince tree where the cuckoo had been gather¬ 
ing sticks, then she hid to see what he would 
do. She did not have long to wait. In a very 
little while, the cuckoo came to the tree hunting 





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44 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


sticks, but when he saw the strings, he caught one 
of them in his bill instead and flew away with it. 

Betty, watching from the other side, saw him 
fly up with the string. The cuckoo in the nest 
gave a low throaty sound, as if she was surprised 
that he could find such good nesting material. He 
answered her with a low sound and flew off 
rather proudly, Betty thought, to get another 
string. 

This time he caught both ends of the string 
in his bill and attempted to fly with it. It would 
not come, and he was jerked back violently. He 
tried another, catching it in the same way and 
with the same result. He caught the next one 
by one end and attempted to fly with it in his 
zig-zag way close to the body of the tree. It 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


45 


caught on a limb. He tried to unfasten it with 
his bill, then caught one end of it in his bill and 
flew, putting his whole weight on it. This time 
he was successful and flew away with it to the 
nest, the string floating behind him like the tail 
on a kite. All this time he had not uttered a 
sound. 

“Most birds would have scolded us soundly 
when the string did not come loose,” Betty re¬ 
marked. She had come around to watch with her 
sister. 

“They certainly would, especially the orioles,” 
Bessie agreed. 

Thus the bird gathered strings and bits of wood 
until the string was all used up. Bessie ran to 
the house for more string. While she was gone. 




46 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


the cuckoo flew to the south and was gone so 
long Betty thought the cat must have caught 
him. Bessie came back with the string and placed 
it on the quince tree. Betty went to look for the 
cuckoo. She met him coming back without any¬ 
thing in his bill. He took one of the strings in 
his bill and flew to the nest with it. 

“I think he was looking for softer material,” 
Betty observed. “I wonder if he would like some 
dry grass?” 

Bessie was too much absorbed in watching the 
bird’s silent, shadow-like motions to reply. Betty 
gathered a handful of dry grass and placed it 
beside the string on the tree. 

When the cuckoo saw the grass, he gathered 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


47 



She crouched loto in the nest 


a bill full of it and flew to the nest with it and 
came back again and again for more. 

“He certainly keeps quiet,” Betty observed, 
“yet we could not call him a shirker.” 

“No,” Bessie replied enthusiastically, “he is a 
worker. Come, let us see what progress they have 
made with the nest.” 

When the female saw the girls watching, she 
crouched low in the nest, and watched them out 




48 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


of the corner of her eye. Presently the male 
came back with a little straw in his bill and gave 
it to her. He stayed with her longer than usual, 
then he flew away. In a little while she left the 
nest and flew away after him. 

The twins watched for a long time for the 
birds to come back. 

“I wonder if we have scared them away in 
getting so close to the nest?” Bessie asked. 

“No,” Betty responded, “I think they have 
done their day’s work and have gone to roost.” 

“What a strange nest they built,” Bessie ex¬ 
claimed, “it looks more like a pile of sticks with 
a few rags hanging from it.” 

“And yet it is pretty in its way,” Betty ob¬ 
served. “I think birds have tastes the same as 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


49 


people and the cuckoo’s taste is for the rustic 
and sensible.” 

“There may be something in that,” Bessie ad¬ 
mitted, “but it seems to me the young cuckoos 
would fall out!” 

When the cuckoos came back the next morn¬ 
ing they flew about their nest. Betty said they 
were admiring their work. It looked even better 
to them than it did the night before. 

Bessie did not agree with them, but Bessie 
was only a young child and did not then know 
what the cuckoo likes and needs in the way of 



a nest. 




/ / 

THE BLUE JAY’S CUPBOARD 



He was very cold and hungry. The shrill 
January wind whistling by him ruffled up his 
feathers and he shivered with the cold. A cheer¬ 
less white carpet of snow lay on the ground, 
covering up his food supply of weed seeds. The 
branches of the tree on which he perched were 
covered with ice and he had to hold first one, 
then the other of his cold feet up in his feathters 
to warm them. 


50 


✓ 





The tree on which 
he perched 


51 


i 





























52 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


From where he sat he could see a little girl 
eating her breakfast. “My, if I only had some/’ 
he shivered, “I would not be so cold. 

“Jay, jay,” he screeched, hoping he could at¬ 
tract her attention. She went on eating as if 
there were no jays within fifty miles. Again and 
again he yelled jay-jay but with no better suc¬ 
cess than before. It was very provoking. Only 
once did she look his way and then she did not 
see him. Something must have been troubling 
her, the jaybird thought as her face was very sad. 

She was indeed sad, for her teacher had told 
her she must write a good composition. She was 
to sit at her window and write a composition on 
what she saw there. Of all the places to find a 




And write a good composition 



53 






54 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


composition that was the worst, she thought, and 
instead of looking out the window she pouted 
about it. It was Saturday morning and the com¬ 
positions were to be in the following Friday. 

“Marie,” her mother said, “look out that win¬ 
dow and tell me what you see.” 

Marie looked out, though she had little hopes 
of seeing anything. 

“I see lots and lots of snow and ice. The wind 
is blowing quite a gale and a jaybird is sitting 
on a branch of the tree yelling jay jay and try¬ 
ing his best to keep from being blown away by 
the storm,” Marie answered, “but I do not see 
any composition in that.” 

“If you were that Jay what would you like 
best of all?” her mother questioned. 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


55 


Something nice and warm to eat and a place 
of shelter,” Marie answered. 

“If we feed the bird I think he will find shelter 
in one of our buildings or in some tree more pro¬ 
tected from the wind than this one is.” 

“Yes, I think the reason he stays on this tree 
is because he is hungry.” Marie said, ‘Mother, 
may I feed him?” 

“Yes, slip on your warm coat and run to the 
barn and get a nice ear of corn for him.” 

It did not take Marie long to get the corn. 
“Now what will I do with it?” she asked. 

“Put it in the oven to warm awhile then take 
it out and put it on that nail in the post on 
which the clothesline is fastened. Then come 
in and watch what happens,” her mother advised. 




56 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


The work was soon done and Marie watched 
eagerly at the window to see what would happen. 
She had forgotten all about her composition by 
this time. 

With a glad cry the Jay flew to the corn and 
put as many kernels as he could in his mouth, 
then he flew to another tree and ate it grain by 
grain. Every once in a while he shrilled jay-jay 
as though thanking Marie for her generosity or 
perhaps it was to tell the other birds what a rich 
treat he had found. However it was, the ear of 
corn was soon alive with birds. Redbirds, titmice, 
downeys and many jaybirds came to feast on the 
warm corn. 

Our little jay, having eaten all he wanted for 
that meal, flew to a clump of bushes and was 






Jaybirds came to feast on the warm corn 

57 
















58 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


soon busy burrowing in the snow. He then re¬ 
turned for another mouthful of corn, which he 
buried in the same place. 

“I wonder why he is doing that?” Marie said. 
She was still wondering about it several days 
later when she chanced to look out the window. 
There in the snow where he had hidden his 
treasure he was busily burrowing. After a little 
while he flew away. 

“I am going to see what he was doing,” Marie 
declared, putting on her wraps. She took the 
snow shovel from the shed and was soon busy 
making a path to the bushes where the bird had 
burrowed in the snow. 

What she found was a little scooped out place, 





BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


59 


some marks of the corn on the snow, and a few 
outer husks of corn. 

“Why,” Marie cried, delighted, “I have found 
the blue jay’s cupboard and it is empty, just 
like Old Mother Hubbard’s. Just watch how 
soon I can fill it.” 

Marie felt just as Columbus must have felt 
when he discovered America. She could hardly 
contain her joy and ran to the house as fast as 
she could to tell her mother the wonderful thing 
she had discovered. 

The empty cob on the post was soon replaced 
by a new one, so the jaybird could fill his cup¬ 
board again. 

“But what about my composition?” Marie 
asked, *'1 have forgotten all about that. 




60 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


Her mother laughed. “Why not write about 
the bluejay’s cupboard?” 

“The very thing/’ Marie exclaimed; and so 
it was written. 

When the compositions were read all declared 
Marie’s to be the very best. Her classmates kept 
her busy answering questions about it. 

“And to think,” she declared, “I never thought 
when I was watching the blue jay I was gather¬ 
ing material for a composition.” 





THE RIBBON THIEF 



“Oh!” little Hazel cried, “there goes my rib¬ 
bon.” She had been sitting at the open win¬ 
dow dressing her doll when a playful May breeze 
caught up her ribbon and took it out the win¬ 
dow. It caught on a twig of the quince tree, 

just now very pretty and fragrant with blossoms. 
61 


62 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


Hardly had she spoken when a beautiful bird 
with a golden breast took the ribbon in her bill 
and flew away with it. 

“Oh!” Hazel sobbed, running out after the 
bird, “that naughty bird stole my ribbon.” 

Hazel could not find the bird anywhere so 
she came back to her mother with her face all 
red and swollen from crying. Her very littlest 
doll needed a sash very badly and that ribbon 
was the very width she needed to go around her 
tiny waist. Besides it was such a pretty shade of 
red, she did not know why the bird had to 
steal it. 

“Never mind, dear,” her mother comforted her, 
“I will give you another ribbon just as wide and 
every bit as pretty.” 







Flew away with it 





63 















64 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


Hazel smiled through her tears. “But, 
Mother,” she asked, “what did the bird want with 
my ribbon?” 

“I think she wanted to weave it in her nest,” 
Mother replied. 

Hazel’s eyes grew big with surprise. “Why! 
I thought they used twigs and bits of grass to 
build nests.” 

“The most of them do,” Mother replied, “but 
the orioles prefer strings and ribbons for their 
hanging nest.” 

“Was that pretty bird an oriole?” Hazel asked, 
“and had we not better put out some strings for 
her?” 

“Yes,” Mother replied to both questions. “And 
here is a white rag. Tear it into strings and 





That pretty bird an Oriole 

55 






66 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


put it on the quince tree for her. It will be 
softer than cord and she can weave it into her 
nest better. 

Hazel had hardly fastened the strings to the 
tree until she heard a sharp whistle. Looking 
out quickly she saw a bird similar to the first one 
but with/a brighter breast. Presently the first 
bird she had seen flew to the quince tree and 
helped herself to one of the strings Hazel had 
placed there, and flew away with it. 

“Was that bright bird the male?” Hazel in¬ 
quired. 

“Yes, dear, he always comes with her to cheer 
her with his song while she is gathering the 
strings.” 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


67 


“And does he not help her*?” Hazel was sur¬ 
prised. “Oh, there go the strings on the 
ground,” and Hazel ran out to put them up 
again. 

This time she tied them on the quince tree. 
“Now I do not think the wind will blow them 
down.” 

She had just time enough to get to her win¬ 
dow when she heard the familiar whistle and 
saw the orioles coming back for more string. The 
female bird went at once to the tree and began 
working at the string with her bill trying to 
loosen it while the male whistled encouragement 
to her but never offered to help her. 

“The lazy thing!” Hazel exclaimed. 




68 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


Marked the place where she stopped 



When the female oriole had unfastened the 
string and flew away with it, Hazel followed to 
see what she was doing with it. She had a time 
following the bird as she flew straight over the 
fences, trees and things, while Hazel had to go 
around, but she kept her eyes on the oriole and 
marked the place where she stopped. When she 








BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


69 


came there she saw a stocking-like affair hanging 
from the tip of an apple limb. The female oriole 
was busy weaving the string into the fabric of 
the nest while the male oriole sang to her. 

Looking closer, she saw her red ribbon shining 
among the white strings of the nest. It was just 
a narrow ribbon, a little wider than baby ribbon, 
for her doll was tiny and did not need a big sash. 

“Why,” Hazel exclaimed, “I think she must 
have needed a bit of color to make her nest pretty. 
She certainly is welcome to it.” 

When Hazel reached the house, the orioles 
were already there. The female oriole was hav¬ 
ing a hard time trying to unfasten one of the 
strings. She worked at it awhile with her bill 




70 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


trying to undo the knot, then would take the 
end in her bill and try to fly away with the string, 
but it held fast. Then she tried to unfasten it 
with her bill. Over and over again she did this 
while the male whistled cheerily and encourag¬ 
ingly, but never once offered to help her. The 
more she worked at it the looser the string be¬ 
came, but the more tired she became, so she had 
to rest oftentimes before trying it again. Finally, 
however, she loosened it and flew away with it 
while the male whistled joyously as if he had 
done it. 

“I am going to loosen all those strings,” Helen 
declared. “I think that bird has enough to do 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


71 


So she ran out to fix the strings. Her mother, 
watching her, smiled at the interest her little 
girl was showing in her ribbon thief. 





A SPARROW IN THE CABBAGE PATCH 



Little Dorothy Arnold awoke one morning to 
find an English sparrow sitting on her window 
sill, with a green worm in its mouth. 

“I wonder what Aunt Susan would say if she 
saw that,” Dorothy thought, while she lay very 
still watching it. 

The bird sat there looking around in the 



74 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


friendliest way imaginable, then it flew away 
to its nest in the roof. 

“I never yet saw a green worm that was of 
value , 55 Dorothy mused while she dressed, “and 
if English sparrows catch green worms, why do 
people hate the sparrow ? 55 

It was a big question for a little girl and she 
finished dressing quickly and ran down to tell 
her mother the good news. 

“We can not have a bit of peace with those 
English sparrows. They are forever fighting and 
last week I caught them eating my cabbage. I 
do not see why someone does not kill every one 
of them . 55 It was her Aunt Susan complaining. 

Dorothy came in rather timidly. “Mother, 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


75 


guess what I saw?” Dorothy could not keep 
her secret, though she was very much afraid of 
her Aunt Susan. 

Dorothy was always learning new things about 
nature and her mother was very well pleased to 
see that she used her eyes and ears to such good 
advantage. 

“What is it now?” Mother asked, smiling 
down at her little daughter. 

Dorothy told her mother what she had seen. 

“I would have to see that to believe it,” spoke 
up Aunt Susan. 

A hurt look crossed Dorothy’s face. 

“My little girl always tells me the truth,” 
Mrs. Arnold said quickly with a meaning look 




76 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


at her sister. Dorothy smiled happily and snug¬ 
gled up to her mother. It was fine to have a 
mother like that. 

“I believe that was a cabbage worm you saw 
in the bird’s mouth,” Mrs. Arnold said gently. 
“I saw them eating cabbage worms a few years 
ago and it would not surprise me if they did it 
again. When you have eaten your breakfast we 
will go out and see.” 

After breakfast they all went out to the cab¬ 
bage patch, though Aunt Susan declared it was 
all nonsense. They hid behind a bush and 
watched for the birds to come. They waited 
there so long that Mrs. Arnold was ready to give 
up and Aunt Susan was saying, “Let us go into 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


77 


the house and be sensible. We might know 
there is no good in an English Sparrow.” 

“Wait,” Dorothy commanded excitedly, “there 
is one coming down now.” 

True enough there was. Dorothy knew how to 
use her bright eyes. The sparrow flew straight 
to the cabbage patch and began helping himself 
to the nice juicy worms and lice on the plant. 

“There!” Aunt Susan cried, “that is just what 
they do to mine. I cannot have a single head of 
cabbage with them.” 

“I do not think you would have a cabbage if 
it were not for them/’ Dorothy’s mother replied 
quietly, “he is eating the worms, not the cab¬ 
bage.’’ 




78 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


Aunt Susan looked at her sister scornfully. 
She did not believe it. She wanted to rush out 
and chase the bird away. 

“When the bird had finished, he flew close 
enough for them to see what he had in his mouth. 
It was a green cabbage worm. 

Aunt Susan was surprised. 

“Well!” she exclaimed, “this is the first time 
I ever knew sparrows were of value.” 

“I can give you more proofs if you want them,” 
her sister suggested. 

“I am willing to be convinced,” Aunt Susan 
replied. “I wonder what that book writer meant 
by calling sparrows such nuisances.” 

“Oh, that is where you found that idea is it?” 
Mrs. Arnold said. 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


79 


“Yes, and if you have any more proof, you 
had better be showing it,” Aunt Susan retorted. 

“I know where it is,” Dorothy said and led the 
way to a little wren’s nest on a tree limb over¬ 
hanging the henhouse, where a number of spar¬ 
rows had their nests. 

“There are little wrens in that nest and it? is 
next door to the English sparrows in the hen¬ 
house. 

“Why? Why?” Aunt Susan questioned, “the 
book said they chased all the other birds away.” 

“I know,” Mrs. Arnold said, “but sometimes 
even writers of books make mistakes. I suppose 
if there were as many sparrows as there used to 
be, they would do some damage. It is only nat¬ 
ural for a bird to want to live and when there 




80 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


were a great number of them I suppose they 
chased the smaller birds away because they were 
stronger and wanted places for themselves.” 

Dorothy then showed her aunt the nests of a 
number of different kinds of birds all close to 
the house and unmolested by the English spar¬ 
rows. 

“Last summer when I was sick,” Dorothy’s 
mother began, “I lay in a bed upstairs facing 
the cherry trees. It was during cherry time and 
though the English sparrows were on the trees 
nearly all the time, I never saw one of them take 
a cherry, but I saw nearly every other kind of 
a bird helping himself to them. I could not be¬ 
lieve it at first, but it was so. A sparrow’s mouth 





Led the way to the 
little wren's nest 




82 BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 



Seems to he too small to eat them. 


seems to be too small to eat them.” 

“They will not eat corn, either,” Dorothy said. 
“Do you remember the corn we put out in the 
winter for the birds and not a sparrow ever 
came near it?” 

“That is so, too,” her mother said. 

“It does not seem possible,” Aunt Susan de¬ 
clared, “but I cannot doubt what I have seen. 


V3.&.. 


































BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


83 


Hereafter I will not so quickly believe everything 
I read about supposed useless birds. 








AN UNWELCOME GUEST 


3 ® 


Young Tommy Catbird awoke from his morn¬ 
ing nap terrified and speechless from fear. Above 
his nest, a monstrous blacksnake reared his impish 
head, while his darting red tongue watered for 
his breakfast. It came ever nearer and nearer. 
Fear held Tommy spellbound. He trembled yet 
could not move. 


84 



85 


86 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 



Followed them on the branch 


With a painlike cry the parent birds came 
back. They flew at the snake fiercely and dug 
their claws into his flesh. As quick as lightning, 
the snake recoiled and the birds flew away. The 
snake followed them out on the branch, but the 
birds did not attack him again. 

Again he raised his head above the nest and 
explored its contents. The parent birds waited 
in suspense. Had Tommy time to hide? A 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


87 


searching look convinced the snake the nest was 
empty and he left it alone. Thoroughly angry 
now, the snake turned his attention to the parent 
birds. If he could not have the nestling, he 
would, at least, have one of the older birds. 

He glided out on the branches with the grace 
of a squirrel, jumping from branch to branch 
while the catbirds shrilled defiantly at him and 
cried in heartbroken tones. When the birds had 
a good chance, they flew at him and picked him 
savagely, but before the snake could grab them 
they had flown away, apparently exhausted. The 
next moment they were ready to go at him 
again. Whatever powers of fascination he had, 
availed him nothing with the fighting catbirds. 




88 BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 



The catbirds yelled defiantly at him 


It was a fight in the open and to an onlooker 
was very interesting. 

There was such an onlooker, Floyd Miller, a 
farmer boy, who had heard the cries of the birds’ 
distress and had made his way into the swamp, 
unnoticed by the combatants. He watched them, 
held still by the wily movements of the snake 









BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


89 


that reminded him of the story about Adam and 
Eve in the Garden of Eden. 

Interesting as it was to Floyd, it held but 
terror for the catbirds and they were slowly but 
surely becoming exhausted by their efforts. The 
snake had counted on this, perhaps, and kept 
after them relentlessly, hoping they would fall 
of exhaustion. 

Then the snake caught a glimpse of Floyd 
out of the corner of his eye. The birds were, for 
the moment, forgotten while he lay quietly watch¬ 
ing him. Floyd stooped for a stone. The snake 
crawled up the boughs. He hid among the 
foliage. He tried to make his body resemble a 
gnarled branch. His efforts were vain. Floyd’s 




90 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


bright eyes found him. A few well directed 
blows laid him low. 

Floyd had killed the serpent none too soon, 
for the parent birds fluttered down exhausted and 
panted for breath. They could not have stood the 
strain much longer. 

Tommy Catbird had been an interested ob¬ 
server of the defense his parents were making 
for their home and he now came out of his hiding 
place and chirped vigorously in celebration of 
the victory. 



ja O 





Messengers of spring 


A ROBIN AT SCHOOL 

“Oh my,” Roy complained, “how I wish I were 
a nice fat robin!” 

“Why, Roy!” Mother reproved, “I thought 
you liked being a boy.” 

“I do,” Roy amended, except when it comes 

91 



92 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


to going to school, then I should like to be free 
like a bird.” 

“That would not do you any good,” Mrs. Car¬ 
ter replied, “for birds have to go to school. Do 
you remember the fun we had last spring watch¬ 
ing a young robin learning its lessons?” 

Roy shook his head, puzzled. 

“Oh, I remember now, it was Kenneth who 
was with us.” 

Roy was interested at once. “Tell me about 
it, Mother.” 

Kenneth came in. Mrs. Carter appealed to 
him. 

"Kenneth, do you remember the day we saw 
a robin holding down the head of another robin.” 

“Yes, indeed, Mother, I wanted to throw a 





Trying to motlce the hciby robin eat the worm 

93 


















































94 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


stone at it to make it stop, but you would not 
let me..” 

“We looked closer,” Mother continued, “and 
saw that there was a worm lying on the ground. 
The mother robin was trying to make the baby 
robin eat that worm.” 

“It was just such a worm as robins like to 
eat,” Kenneth said eagerly, “a nice white cut¬ 
worm that they dig out of the ground. I could 
not understand why the youngster did not eat it. 
Surely he must know that was why his mother 
held his head down to it. The minute his mother 
relaxed her hold, up went baby bird’s head as 
if it were made of rubber, and he yelled lustily 
to be fed. He must have thought worms grew 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


95 


on trees or on his mother, for he followed her 
about begging to be fed. I thought him very 
stupid indeed, not to know that he had a nice 
worm on the ground, just waiting to be eaten. 

Roy laughed. “My, how I wish I had been 
there!” 

“The mother bird had to push his head down 
time and time again, only to have him pop it 
up and call for food.” Mother continued, “When 
she found pushing did not do any good, she be¬ 
came rough and started picking at the poor little 
fellow’s head with her bill.” 

“Did you say the young bird was littleV” 
Kenneth asked. “Why he was as big as she was. 
The only way I know it was a young robin was 




96 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


by the brown specks on its breast. I thought it 
was certainly big enough to know how to pick up 
a worm for itself. 5 ’ 

Mother laughed. “Yes, Kenneth, he was big 
enough. I have a habit of calling anything that 
is young, little. The picking of his head had 
a little more effect upon him than pushing it 
down had. At least he was not in such a hurry 
to raise it because he knew that it would only 
be picked again and it hurt to be picked. He 
tried it several times only to be picked until he 
lowered his head. I think that must have been 
a severe trial for the poor little bird. He was 
hungry and had always received his food from 
his mother’s bill. His mother had always been 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


97 


good and kind to him. He could not understand 
why she was so cruel all at once.” 

“I should think it would be hard for him to 
understand,” Roy remarked. 

“Finally,” Mother continued her story, “he 
looked about on the ground for lack of anything 
else to do, or perhaps he had begun to realize 
that his mother must have some good reason for 
pushing his head down. He saw the worm. I 
think he must have been surprised to find it there. 
He picked at it gingerly, his mother standing 
guard over him all the time.” 

“She was certainly pleased when he finally 
swallowed the worm,” Kenneth commented. 

“She ought to be,” Roy declared, after all that 
work.” 




98 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


“I saw her later, teaching him to dig worms for 
himself / 5 

“Why, Mother, where was I, that I did not 
see it ? 55 Kenneth complained. 

“I think you were playing somewhere . 55 

“Do tell us about it, Mother , 55 Roy begged. 

“It was comical to watch them , 55 Mother be¬ 
gan. “He kept following her around, calling 
at times, and opening his mouth wide right in 
her face. She paid no heed to him. She picked 
at the ground with those quick little picks robins 
give, then she pushed his head up and down with 
her bill. He was almost as stupid in learning to 
dig worms out for himself as he had been in 
learning to eat them. 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


99 


“I think he knew enough then to know that 
she was trying to teach him something, for he 
would bob his head up and down in the funniest 
way without touching the ground. Mother bird 
renewed her efforts. She dug earnestly at the 
ground, watching baby-bird all the while. Baby- 
bird watched her antics, then tried it himself, 
picking the ground a little this time. That 
pleased the mother bird and she dug in real 
earnest. Baby-bird now did what the mother bird 
did and soon their heads were bobbing up and 
down in quite a lively manner. They were both 
hunting worms. 

“Did Baby-bird get a worm?” Kenneth asked 
eagerly. 




100 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


Mother smiled. “I think the mother bird dug 
up the worm and made the baby bird believe 
he had done it all by himself.” 

“I suppose he knew what to do with the worm,” 
Kenneth said. “If he did not, I would think him 
hopeless, after the severe lesson he received.” 

He did not need any more teaching for that,” 
Mother laughed. “He had learned that lesson 
very well.” 

“So that is the way robins go to school,” Roy 
remarked thoughtfully. “One good thing about 
it is that they do not need to learn so many things 
as we do.” 

“Oh, there are many other things they must 
learn,” Mother explained. “They must learn to 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


101 



Hoto "best to d-odge cats 


fly. They must study how best to dodge cats, 
owls, snakes, and every danger that threatens. 
Then sometimes they are caught. They must 
also know how to build nests and take care of 
their young and many other things.” 

“Why,” Roy cried in surprise, “I thought 
every bird knew how to build a nest without 
being taught.” 

“I never saw a bird teaching another how to 





102 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


build a nest but I did see one that did not know 
how to build her nest. Rather she did not know 
where to put it, so it would stay in the tree. I 
had watched her carrying straw in big bill fulls 
for days at a time and depositing it on a bare 
limb of our crab apple tree. It only fell off, 
making quite a pile of straws under the tree. I 
had seen her look at it in a puzzled way as if 
wondering why it did not stay there. There was 
a nice forked limb quite near that would have 
made a splendid support for her nest but she 
never found it. Finally she gave it up entirely 
and flew away. I have wondered many times if 
that bird ever did build a nest.” 

Roy had been thinking. “I wonder,” he said, 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


103 


“if the reason why we have to go to school so 
much longer than the birds is because we have 
so much more to do than they.” 

“Yes, son,” Mother spoke softly. “Our school¬ 
ing is to fit us for our life work which is not quite 
as simple as a bird’s life work.” 

“I understand, now, Mother, and I will try to 
like school as well as I can.” 






A NOISY FISHER 


Little William played in the cool, sweet-smell¬ 
ing mint, every now and then running up to ask 
his father some question about the pleasant place 
where he was. William had never been in the 
country before and everything seemed so won¬ 
derful to him. 

“Father, what was that blue thing that scooted 
up the creek so fast and made such a great lot 
of noise 

“William, do not make so much noise, you 

will scare all the fish away.” 

104 



BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 105 


That teas a bird, my son 

“But, Father, what was it? Will it hurt me"? 

“That was a bird, my son, a kingfisher.” 

“A kingfisher 1 ?” William cried, “and does he 
fish for kings?” 

His father laughed. “No, my son, he is called 
a kingfisher because he is the king of fishermen 
among the birds.” 

“Then he catches fish, but where are his line 
and hook?” William asked. 










106 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


“He needs no line or hook,” William’s father 
told him. “Look, there he is now on those stones 
looking in the shallow water for fish. Watch 
him and you may see him catch a fish.” 

William looked and saw him patiently walk¬ 
ing about on the stones and gazing very intently 
in the water. William watched him for awhile 
but he soon lost patience with him. He wanted 
him to catch something quick! 

“But, Father, why did he make such a noise 
when he went up the creek? Wasn’t he afraid 
he would scare the fish away?” 

“It is his nature to make a noise like that and 
he may do it to scare the fish upstream so as 
to have them there when he goes fishing. He 
never makes a sound while he is watching for 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


107 



them.” His father answered. 

William sat very quiet for about another min¬ 
ute, waiting for the kingfisher to catch something, 
then he moved a little near this wonderful fisher. 
Little by little he came closer and the wary king¬ 
fisher saw him. Kingfishers do not like human 
company and he soon flew away to a limb of a 
tree farther up stream, making a mean rattling 
sound as he flew. 


Flew away to a liirib 





108 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


William was ready to cry. He did so want 
to see that kingfisher catch a fish. “How did he 
do it anyway?” 

“Father, will a kingfisher fish from a tree 
limb?” 

“Yes, William, he will wait until he sees a 
fish, then he will dive down and catch it in his 
mouth and fly up with it. 

This was the strangest thing he had ever heard 
and William’s eyes grew large with wonder. 

William soon went to work building a mound 
in the sand where his father was fishing. It was 
a fort against the Indians and he became so in¬ 
terested in it he forgot all about the kingfisher 
until he heard that shrill rattling sound. 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


109 


He looked up quickly. The 
kingfisher was diving in the 
water. He ran as fast as he 
could to where the kingfisher 
was and saw him come up with 
a little minnow in his mouth. 
He soon flew off with it to the 
deeper woods. 

“Father, Oh Father, that 
blue fisher caught a minnow!” 
William cried, running back to 
his father. “He flew off with 
it. What will he do with it 4 ?” 

“He will eat it himself or 
feed it to the little kingfishers,” 
his father said. 



The blue fisher caught 
a minnow 











110 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


“Eat it! bones and all without being cooked 4 ? 5 ' 

“Yes, my son, and he will swallow it whole, 
head first.” 

William burst out laughing. “What a funny 
bird. Do you know,” William’s eyes were twink¬ 
ling, “I should like to see you catch a fish that 
way once. It would be lots of fun.” 

“It might be for you, but I should not like it 
at all,” his father declared. He was busy gath¬ 
ering up his pole, lines and fish. 

“Come on now, you young knowledge hunter, 
let’s go home and tell mother what you wanted 
your father to do.” 





THE PASSING OVER OF THE BIRDS 



“Jay! Jay!” Bluejay screamed in his chilliest 

voice, one morning early in September. It was 

one of those golden blue and green days. The 

sunlight filtered through a smoky haze and 

dreamed all day long on the hills and green val- 
m 


112 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


leys. Every stream reflected the clear blue of 
the sky and the fleecy white of the clouds. It 
was indeed a day to make the heart of a bird 
glad. 

“Spring is here!” Meadowlark protested, but 
his voice was uncertain and a little sad. Early 
in March he had perched on a dripping post and 
cried joyfully, “Spring is here!” The roads ran 
deep with- mud and water. The sunlight was 
weak and thin. There were no leaves on the 
trees, no grass on the ground, yet there was a 
promise of Spring in the air that tingled through 
him and set his voice ringing across the water- 
soaked fields with his glad message, “Spring is 
here!” 









mm 




In ■->? 


miaJir * 



“Spring is here” 


113 






































114 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


This September day was much nicer than that 
dripping March day, yet Meadowlark was sad. 
He knew too well the promise of those dreamy 
Autumn days was Winter. 

“Cheer up, Dear!” his mate replied. She tried 
to tell him there was no reason for sadness. 
They would fly to a warmer clime as they had 
done before and find the spring there. 

As the days grew colder and the time came 
when Meadowlark knew he must go South or 
freeze, if he did not starve, his voice became 
sadder and sadder as he cried, “Spring is here!” 
He was like a lost bird hunting his lost happiness. 

In spite of Meadowlark’s sadness, the time was 
one of great happiness for the birds. It was a 





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115 

































116 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


regular holiday time for them, as young Robert 
Evans well knew. Often had he stood at the top 
of the hill in the pasture field and watched them 
as they frolicked among the trees just like a lot 
of boys playing tag. 

As soon as the nesting season was over and the 
young birds able to take care of themselves, the 
birds had been quietly gathering in little groups. 
There were young birds and old birds. There 
were bluebirds, and robins, and meadowlarks. 
There were catbirds, and fly catchers, and thrash¬ 
ers. There were many other birds. All summer 
long they had kept to themselves, suspicious of 
their neighbors, but as soon as nesting season was 
over they had forgotten all that and had one 
grand playtime. They hunted in the sunny cor- 





The birds had been quietly gathering in little groups 


117 















118 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


ners. They hawked for insects. They played 
like children at school. They were careless and 
carefree and happy. They were gipsy birds liv¬ 
ing a gipsy life. 

They were like people who have lived in one 
place long enough to become fond of it. They 
had found a better place to live and are glad to 
go, yet they feel sad to think of leaving their 
old home where they had spent many happy days. 

Some of the birds go early but most of them 
linger as long as they dare, but by the middle 
of November all but a few stragglers have gone 
to their Southern home. 

The blackbirds make a big fuss about their 
going. From the unpopular cowbird to the beau- 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 119 



They gathered in big noisy companies 


tiful red winged blackbirds, they gather in big 
noisy companies. Their path southward follows 
the line of the beechnut, the acorn and other soft 
shelled nuts. Robert Evans has watched them 
many years and he thinks they must send out 
scouts to find where the nuts are plentiful. His 
father owns a big beechnut woods and when there 









120 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


is a crop of them, the blackbirds come in droves 
and stay for days until the nuts are harvested. 
When there are no nuts the birds do not come. 

Robert loves to hear them chatter. They put 
him in mind of the camp-meeting days his grand¬ 
mother tells about. Little companies of them 
will walk about as if viewing the place and talk¬ 
ing about it. Others will be gathered as if around 
a council table discussing grave affairs. They 
have sentinels perched upon the tops of the trees 
and when anyone comes near, especially if it is 
a boy with a gun, they hastily fly out of the way. 
Often if a shot is fired among them, they will 
leave the woods though they have not begun to 
harvest the nuts. 







Sentinels perched upon 
the tops of the trees 

121 





122 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


The Blackbirds are the noisiest in their pass¬ 
ing. Once, while in the woods, Robert witnessed 
a very quiet passing. It was one of those still, 
breathless days late in August or early in Sep¬ 
tember. All nature seemed to be holding its 
breath. Robert was fishing. There were no 
sounds save the sleepy drumming of a partridge, 
or the drowsy whirr of insects. Even the voice 
of the stream was hushed. Robert became very 
lonely. He wanted to shout and break the 
intense stillness. 

All at once the scene changed. Robert jumped 
to his feet. Every shrub, every tree was full of 
birds. Every bird was alert and busy, gliding 
from one branch to another and calling to each 
other in pleasant little voices. They were quite 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


123 



They were gone 


different from the blackbirds. One could not 
help hearing and seeing the blackbirds. If we 
saw these birds passing over once in a lifetime, 
we could count ourselves fortunate. There were 
small birds of all kinds, but most of them were 
warblers. In a moment they were gone and the 
woods became as quiet as it was before they came 
but Robert was no longer lonely. He had seen 
a passing over he will never forget. 




124 


BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 



Often, too, he has heard them passing over at 
night. It is usually on a moonlight night. Birds 
can see to travel better on that kind of a night. 

1 hear the beat 
Of their pinions fleet , 

As from the land of snow and sleet 
They seek a southern lea . 

I hear the cry 

Of their voices high 

Falling dreamily through the sky , 

But their forms I cannot see . 

Longfellow 




BIRDS OF A FEATHER STORIES 


125 


Thus they go, bravely facing the dangers, half 
reluctant, half glad. Thus they will come back 
and call to us some drenched, mud bespattered 
day next March, “Spring is here!” thrilling us 
with their bird songs that the winter is over and 
that Spring is truly here. 

Finis 




THE. 

NORTHLAND 
BIRD * LIFE 

The GoldenBooi^^rjic Birds 

c T^ / ROYJ SHELL 

AUTHOR, a^-STRAHGE LAPfD • BIR.D • LIFE. 
THE D IH HEEL- THAT •'WAS AL^JaVS • THERE.. 
LITTLE BOV-FRAHCE, BTC. 



fvJUST-RIGHT- BOOKS] 
ALBERT • • COHPAITY 

.PUBLISHERS . 

LJ.S.AY. 


CHICAGO 















BUSY LITTLE BIRDS 

I THE VONDERS OF BIRD LIFE I 


By Clara J. Denton 

Author of “Real Out-of-Door Stories’’ 
“Open Air Stories^Real Bird Tales’.' 



Sue Seeley 

“A JUST RIGHT BOOK! 
PUBLISHED BY 

ALBERT WHITMAN CO, 

CHICAGO U.S.A 




REAL BIRD TALES 


BYCLAUAJ. DENTON 

• ♦ AUTHOR. OF • • 

'BUSY LITTLE BIRDS" "REAL OUT-CEDOOR 
STORIES"”OPEN AIR STORIES'; ETC. 



ILLUSTRATED BY SUE SEELEY 

" EA JUST RIGHT BOOKU 

PUBLISHED BY 

ALBERT ^WHITMAN & COMPANY 

CHICAGO LT. S _ 2 \,. 




























































































































































































































